Patang Patang
by Nova Super
Summary: Set in April 1912. It hasn't rained in ten days, Robert hasn't taken Cora to bed in as long. At an annual ball hosted at Downton, Cora's up to her teasing tricks and Robert's struggling to remain a good host. When will it finally rain? For Settees-under-siege on her birthday. x


━═ [̲̅̅H̲̅][̲̅̅A̲̅][̲̅̅P̲̅][̲̅̅P̲̅][̲̅̅Y̲̅] [̲̅̅B̲̅][̲̅̅I̲̅][̲̅̅R̲̅][̲̅̅T̲̅][̲̅̅H̲̅][̲̅̅D̲̅][̲̅̅A̲̅][̲̅̅Y̲̅] SETTEES-UNDER-SIEGE! ═━  
¸.✿¨¯`✿´¸¸.✿¨¯`✿

_A/N: Specially dedicated to a certain lady on her birthday today! I've kept to a couple of guidelines I managed to set myself at a time I wasn't being at all very serious... A one-shot focused primarily on a few throw-away comments... 'Bates is present', 'Robert gets a boner', 'Violet sees'. Also involved, the task of making the title relevant to the story... I guess it's quite a high T rating but it's not explicit so. I give you..._

**Patang Patang  
**

In the first days of April 1912, all of Britain was surrounded in great thick cloud that threatened to downpour with each passing day. Particularly Downton's bike enthusiasts were worried they'd get soaked on their ways into town to work and so many villagers could be seen riding around holding umbrellas as they cycled (just in case storm broke out on their daily commute). The sight was unusual. Anyway, outdoors felt humid and stuffy, awaiting the cleanse of fresh rain to make the air breathable again. No wind in the zephyr, all lay quite still...

However, up at Downton Abbey, North Yorkshire, nothing was ever still for long. And so naturally, the weather gave little impact upon household duties beyond cropping up frequently in conversation. On the way to breakfast...

"Did it rain last night Carson?" Robert would ask hopefully.

"No, my Lord, I'm afraid not."

At luncheon...

"Of course I hear the gardeners are rather anticipating the flower show to be one of the best we've seen," Cora would mention conversationally.

"I doubt it. I should think this weather will mean everyone turns up with handfuls of twigs in ornate vases."

At dinner...

"Of course I hear some of the farmers are worrying about crops this season," Edith would say to the whole table to have everyone stare blankly at her before Mary would say (intoning her grandmama)...

"I doubt it. You don't know anything about crops."

In the drawing room following dinner...

"Just yesterday on the drive through town I saw a young man balance his brief case, manage his bicycle and hold a parasol over his head - will wonders never cease?" Isobel would comment.

"I doubt it. There's nothing so queer as folk," Violet would answer, as usual in her very opinionated manner.

At bed time...

"Would you like to go for a walk tomorrow? Just us?" Robert would ask on climbing into bed on the sixth consecutive evening to find sleeping was all Cora had in mind...

"Well I'd like to, of course but... It's not really walking weather-"

"I'm fed up of all this discussion on the dry weather!"

"Is something bothering you?" she would hazard a guess.

"No," he'd answer a little grumpier than he'd intended.

So, the weather wasn't having much effect at all really... But come the tenth day of drought (rain drought that is, not... sperm drought...?) Downton was playing host to an annual lords and ladies ball which had been planned and replanned since around about May 29th the previous year. Anyway, come the minutes anticipating arrival of the first guests to... well, arrive, Robert and Cora were congregated downstairs in drawing room, readying themselves for the show.

"Come here darling, your tie's squiffy."

"What does 'squiffy' even mean?" Robert asked irritably, fidgeting with it while Cora swatted at his hands and tried to fix it herself.

"Really Robert, what is wrong with you? You've been like a grumpy toddler all day. And all of yesterday come to think of it. Why don't you just tell me what's going on?"

"Nothing's wrong," he grumbled.

Cora seemed thoughtful for a moment, frowning a little as she finished adjusting his tie.

"Men don't menstruate do they?"

"Menus-what!?"

"Every month women bleed-"

"Woah! Hold up, I am not talking about _that_ right before we welcome our guests."

"So you _do_ have it? How come I've never known til now? I thought only women-"

"Please, stop. _We don't bleed through our dangly parts._"

Someone cleared their throat.

"Err, sorry to interrupt my Lord but Mr Carson is at the door and I've been told to let you know the first lords and ladies are here?"

"Of course, Bates," Robert said quickly, pulling at his tie and making it untidy again. He was quickly going an unflattering shade of cardinal red. Cora quickly yanked at his tie and pulled it straight again before making for the door after Bates. In the door frame she paused, turned and looked at him with a suddenly mischievous grin on her lips.

"What're-?" he started but found he didn't know what he was asking.

She quickly struck a pose, her thigh raised to straddle the wall while she tilted back her head and winked before disappearing out of view. Robert gaped before realising he had duties - with Cora - to welcome their guests and see to it everyone had a drink in hand and felt comfortable... more comfortable than him anyway. He very hurriedly had to imagine Bates groping his mother to dismiss the semi hard on waiting in his trousers.

Not daring to look at Cora while they stirred in their social circles and played their parts during dinner conversation, Robert took to very much getting involved in chatting to the gents about the recent favourite topic: shotguns. Lord Gerald Grenning had recently purchased himself an English Flintlock Blunderbuss from a new favourite vintage collector in London.

"I'm not sure about that dealer, the foreigners always seem tricky folk to negotiate with..."

"Oh it's definitely an original Blunderbuss I had it examined for original details first. Of course I was certain anyway, I know my Blunderbusses. Besides, Twoi'ou is a decent collector."

"Twoi'ou?" Matthew repeated. Having not said much all evening for fear of saying something inappropriate, his interest seemed to capture most of them men listening to Lord Grenning.

"Yes," Grenning repeated, giving an air of disapproving at Matthew's shallow social knowledge.

"What's his first name?" Matthew enquired.

"Lou. Lou Twoi'ou, unusual name granted but you get that with most foreigners don't you find? Excluding the Americans of course but they're just trying to instill power through copying our methods, resulting in a newer and cheaper version of us, don't you find?"

"Lord Grenning, my wife is American, I take it the drink has loosened your tongue or your social grace is not what it used to be," Robert said calmly, watching while the older nobleman sized him up and decided whether or not he was being challenged.

"I meant nothing of it, Lord Grantham of course... apologies," he added before turning away to find someone else who wouldn't interrupt him while the he rambled on about all things racist, political and social. Robert milled around in Matthew's company for another half an hour, introducing him to some of his older friends he often saw when staying at the club in London and setting them up for conversation. Often he'd chance glances around the room to see what Cora was up to, though each time their eyes met he'd see her smirk a little, a playful glint in her eye as she'd wink saucily at him or lick her lips slowly. The show was proving entertaining and somewhat naughty to begin with but as the drinks flowed and Cora steadily grew more and more _un_steady across the room, her wild acts of spontaneous show grew further inventive and further noticeable.

Robert, deciding to leave Matthew in the company of one of his decent higher class friends to mingle around the room and find Violet in order to seek approval for the general running of the event, chose to focus very hard on not looking while Cora pulled faces in his direction from behind the Countess Brompton.

Violet had just finished spitting with Isobel to excuse herself as she saw Robert approaching. Together they stood to observe the room full of guests before engaging conversation.

"How are you tonight, mama? Enjoying the occasion?"

"Mm, it's going amiably. I hope you weren't disagreeing with Grenning before, his wife's a good friend."

"By 'good friend' I assume you mean snobby old woman who derives enjoyment through annoying you immensely?"

"Now now, what's got you riled?"

"Nothing," he sighed.

"Oh you are your father's son. So melodramatic all of the time. Huffing and quarreling-"

"Have you seen Cora tonight?"

"She's sitting with Rosamund and Mary now and by the sounds of their conversation, she and Rosamund have had far too much to drink."

"What are they talking about?" Robert frowned, glancing over to see Cora pressing her boobs together in order to hold a wine glass between them. Shocked, he looked back at his mama.

"What is she-?"

"I don't know, all I do know is someone better tame them before they become talk of London for their childish behaviour. Earlier I heard Rosamund talking about underwear of all things, they're embarrassing the family-"

"Do you think it's too soon to excuse ourselves so I can take her to bed?" he asked, feeling the familiar burning of hope within him at the thought of having Cora alone...

"Certainly it'd be acceptable enough for her. Though I don't know what you need excusing for. Take her up and come straight back down to see off your guests."

* * *

The next day at around 10 o'clock, Cora was sitting in the library with Violet, receiving a thorough lecture on the rules of society and what exactly is _not_ expected of her at a ball which _she_ is hosting. Cora, however, was too busy looking out the window at the clouds as they grew thicker and darker.

Meanwhile, Robert was in his study pouring over hoards of papers and studiously scribbling away on parchment. Coming to halt as he tried to write polite notice to an older farmer that he couldn't receive chickens or eggs in payment for tenancy, he sat back and observed the clock. Isis was curled up and snoring lightly in a corner but otherwise there was barely a sound to be heard.

Considering last night and his utter disappointment that Cora had been asleep when he'd finally found himself retired for the evening, he found his concentration that morning considerably thin. Why hadn't they been together in a week and a half? It wasn't like they had it off every evening but why did she suddenly seem not to be considering it of an evening? He thought of it every evening! Last night had been particularly difficult... he'd had a dream. It started with him standing in a lush green field - Cora was there. She was running towards him carrying a cricket bat - and she was nude. And so was he and everything escalated to epic momentum from there...

Deciding he couldn't possibly work any longer, he set off in search of her. Looking upstairs, searching the drawing room, asking Carson for her whereabouts. He soon found her to be in the library having morning tea.

Bursting in through the door without knocking, Violet gave him a bizarre look but he didn't look back at her. His eyes were fixed on Cora who looked dazedly up at him before blinking and realising he seemed quite tense.

"Robert?" she said unsurely. "Is everything alright?"

But he wasn't hearing words, he was seeing his dream again. This time she was bowling the ball for him, jogging up to the mark and launching the red ball right towards him, her flesh all illuminated in the sunshine from above. Her boobs... wagging as she ran towards him. He missed the ball.

Violet gasped, Cora's eyes bulged before she broke out into a fit of silent giggles. For her husband of some thirty years had randomly just burst in on her having tea with his mother, a far-away look on his face and the most impressive stiffy she'd seen him sport in years.

"C-Cora, you're... Err, Mrs Hughes needs you to come look at some... some things," he mumbled.

"Of course," Cora nodded, calmly rising and moving across the room.

"I think that concludes tea this evening- morning, I'll talk to Mary and... be back for dinner," Violet informed Cora.

"Of course, mama," Cora said as casually as possible as she walked through the door Robert had left open. Quickly following her and closing the door behind him, he reached out for her hand.

"Come on," he whispered, starting off at a run he lead her towards the stairs.

"Come on yourself, I'll race you!" she ran out in front, almost pulling him up the stairs behind her. They made it along the landing before he pulled her back, pinned her to his dressing room door with a gentle thud as he leant in and pressed a hot kiss to her lips. His head pulsing with adrenalin and excitement, Robert's eyes closed, his hands roaming her already... But then-

"Ah!"

"Cora!"

"I'm so sorry, milord, I... I thought..."

Cora had fallen backwards through the door and now sat in a slightly disgruntled heap on the floor. Bates, looking most embarrassed to have caused interruption was getting a seriously bad case of trapped wind (as was his custom whenever he got nervous... it got worse when he married Vera - nearly made the priest faint the stink was so unbearable as he said his 'I do's'.)

"That's alright, Bates, leave her Ladyship to me," Robert said. Then realising that Bates had clocked the bulge of his trousers, Robert would have been embarrassed also if it weren't for his absolute need to have Cora as imminently as possible.

"You can go, Bates," Robert said as evenly and normally as he could.

"Sorry, milord," Bates hurried from the dressing room. Robert extended his hand to Cora who got up and dusted herself off, shaking her head and heaving a sigh. They both looked around awkwardly for a few moments before making eye contact and almost immediately jumping on eachother.

Cora lay down on the bed, spreading for him while he removed the garments most in the way and then... It began to rain.

Heavy droplets falling in sheets across the land, quenching the dry and stuffy feeling in the air and putting some moisture back into the land. Downstairs, Violet was sitting in the library with Mary when they heard the heavy patter of rain on the window panes. Their conversation stilled as they each listened.

_Thud! Patang! Thud! Patang!_

Mary frowned.

"Can you hear that noise?"

"What noise?" Violet asked. "The rain?"

"No... it's like banging..."

Violet strained to hear before frowning also and wondering what rhythmic noise she was hearing.

Out in the hall William and Thomas had paused on their way back downstairs with some polished silver when they heard the rain.

_Thud! Patang! Thud! Patang! Patang! Patang! Patang!_

"What on earth is that?" Thomas muttered.

"I don't know," William frowned. "Maybe one of the floorboards has broken?"

"Don't be an idiot, floorboards creak, they don't make that noise."

Next to the stairs leading into the kitchens, Mrs Hughes and Carson were having a mild debate about inheritance laws when they stopped discussing to listen...

_Patang! Patang! Patang!_

"What is _that_?" Mrs Hughes asked.

"I've no idea, Mrs Hughes... But I intend to find out!"

Meanwhile, upstairs...

"What... ohh... Robert, what... is... wrong... with... this... mattress?" Cora heaved between the pulsations of his hips.

"No idea," he breathed heavily. "Say my name," he whispered.

"Mm," she whimpered softly, her hands clinging to his shirt from her laid down position. "Robert..."

Downstairs, Violet, Mary, William, Thomas, Mrs Hughes, Carson, Matthew, Sybil and Edith had drawn together on hearing the unusual echoing noises emitting from somewhere upstairs.

"Whatever do you suppose it could be, Carson?" Violet asked. "Has someone broken in? Is it that dog of Robert's?"

"I'm not sure, milady but whatever it is, I will get to the bottom of-"

"_ROBERT, OHH, YES! UHH..._"

Awkward glances exchanged, nobody said a word, each hurrying away to find some distraction for the continual _patang, patang_ of a certain mattress upstairs...


End file.
